


the thunder in a sky full of stars

by sexyspork



Series: head in the dust, feet in the fire [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, as CyberLife looms ominously in the background, casual disregard of canon, cause Connor will fuck you up, fuck with Conrad at your own risk, local anger dad coming to terms with adopting local condroids, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyspork/pseuds/sexyspork
Summary: There's something wild in Connor's eyes.(aka DeviantHunter!Connor and DeviantKiller!Conrad AU.)





	the thunder in a sky full of stars

There's something wild in Connor's eyes.

It’s an all consuming hunger, soft brown vanishing into the dark voraciousness of a black hole, light and warmth unable to exist in the face of such uncompromising destruction. Hank's so used to seeing the barely leashed lethality in Conrad that he's forgotten the most important, defining aspect of them. They aren't just Connor and Conrad, they are _Connor &Conrad._

They are a _pair._

To act against Connor was to act against Conrad, but so too was to act against Conrad was to act against Connor. They are the two distinct parts that make up a complete _whole._

There’s blood dripping down the brick wall (blue blood, thank Christ), the deviant staring out in shock, hands curled in supplication around the pipe thrust through its chest and pinning it to the wall in a macabre imitation of a butterfly to a board. The pipe it had tried to use to end Conrad had been turned into the instrument of its own destruction, and its subsequent deactivation had frozen the look of surprise on its visage.

He didn't realize how human Connor acted until it was stripped away, nothing left but a machine and its mission. But watching him had left Hank shaken, because intellectually knowing he was a machine was different than witnessing it in such a capacity. Because the goofy looking poodle had bared its fangs and slammed a pipe so hard through a body that there were deep fissures of crumbling brick spiraling out from the center of impact. 

Connor was kneeling in front of Conrad, LED a flickering, hesitant yellow as his fingers fluttered over the gashes in Conrad’s side. Conrad, the fucking weirdo, was indescribably undisturbed, LED shining steadfastly blue in the darkness of the alleyway. He was calm in the face of a breaking storm, a looseness to his shoulders that Hank has never seen before.

If Hank didn't know better, he would say he looked _fond_.

Conrad reached out, grasping Connor’s hand, fingers curling around each other in a human gesture of reassurance. “My clotting factors have activated and my thirium levels are at 89%; your concern is unwarranted.”

“There is no reason to be concerned over a machine, therefore I am not concerned.” Connor dismissed, words belied by the way he curls toward Conrad, astral body caught in the gravity well of another star, each orbit winding tighter and tighter together. Inseparable and inevitable.

A small light is emanating from their joined hands, ever so faint and only noticeable due to the darkness of the alleyway, but it catches his eyes nonetheless, and Hank’s mind just. shuts. down. Because the synthetic skin covering their fingertips has pulled back, revealing the sickly white gleam of their chassis, and they're _interfacing_ , and Jesus fucking wept, it feels like a punch to the chest. It’s intimate in a way he's never noticed between other androids, a bond on a level that makes him entirely uncomfortable. But watching the way Connor’s LED immediately transitions blue, face smoothing into serenity, he wonders what it would have been like to have that fundamental connection with Co-

He jerks around, putting two predators at his back while ignoring the body on the wall, and he pulls out his phone. Dismissing the late hour in order to text Ben, because he needs a distraction from this fuckery, so if he has to suffer, so does Ben.

_Do you think android interfacing is like vulcan mindmelding?_

_???_

A pause

_go home hank ur drunk_

Thanks a lot Ben. Fucking hell.

If he sees nothing, he knows nothing, and that’s plausible deniability at its best.

**Author's Note:**

> I won't lie, because while Markus/Connor is the ship I'll go down with, I am tempted to make this a Captain Allen/Connor series if only so I can make jokes about the Condroids having similar taste in men (and I think it'd break Hank, lol). But idk, pairings are secondary to exploring Connor & Conrad's brotherly bond. Scream at me in the void~


End file.
